Winning Submission for My Inner Chick

The submissions for “I RISE” were numerous and beautiful and transformative. Thank You. Thank you for your words, your hearts, your souls, your blood. By sharing your stories, you give others permission to share their stories. I believe this with my entire being. If you’re wondering what your purpose on earth is, perhaps it is telling your stories to the world, darlings.

** Here are a few sentences from my favorite essays**

“Sometimes, instead, the lion within me salivates when chomping into the bloody meat of my soul; awaiting a weak moment to pounce on top of me and tear at the stripes of my vulnerability”

“It took me months to take a step out of darkness. But every time I would catch my little one sleeping, I would close my eyes and make prayer. We were safe.”

“I kept thinking, ‘kick him in the balls!’ But he was dancing like Ali”

“Don’t get me started on men who say, You make me want to be a better person. RUN! You need a better person from the get go.”

“Moments earlier, I had been cradled in my mother’s lap, in the most wonderful womb-like temperature water. We were taking a bath.”

“I rise and resurrect like dead, cold suns.”

*****

You move me. You teach me. You make me fucking Rise Up.

Although it was difficult to make a choice, one submission shook me to the core, wrapped its ugly words around me like a giant python and squeezed everything out. Everything. Out. That entry was entitled: I Can’t Die. The author wishes to remain anonymous.

I CAN’T DIE

by T.M.S.

I am a Piece Of Shit.

I am a 14 year old PIECE-OF-SHIT-THE-WORLD-WOULD-BE-BETTER-WITHOUT-YOU-CHICKEN-LEGS-NO-ONE-WANTS-YOU-MOSQUITO-TITTIED Piece Of Shit.

I am a RUINED-YOUR-MOM’S-LIFE-SHOULD-HAVE-NEVER-BEEN-BORNPiece Of Shit.

Why can’t I die?

why am I here? why was I born? why is HE doing this to me?

I want to make the world better (and he told me how) I want to leave it. I want to feel nothing because I am nothing.

I try. Over and over and over. I slit lengthwise. I slit widthwise. I guzzle bleach mixed with contact solution. (why was I born? why can’t I die?) I eat 109 Advil. I cry and I cry and cry but I never bleed enough and the world never goes black.

Why can’t I die?

I can’t count all of my step-dads, but they all hate me. I am a hassle. I am a Piece-Of-Shit-hassle. This step-dad hates me the most. He chokes & punches & kicks. He deals drugs and shoots guns.

School is not an escape. School is Scrub-piece-of-shit-can’t-afford-clothes-can’t-afford-lunch-scrub-ugly-dirty-scrub-wierdo-piece-of-shit. (There is only one escape. There is only one way for the world to be better)

He is shaking mom like a rag. Her limbs flap along her sides like long noodles. He’s holding her by the throat (always choking) slapping, punching, yelling:

BITCH-THIEF-CUNT-WHERE-IS-IT-YOU-WILL-PAY

“Go to the neighbors! GO NOW! Call the cops!”

My voice shocks them out of their screaming. My tone. My strength. My calm. Their eyes are still wide and their mouths are still O’s but they do as I command. He is holding her on the bed now. Punching still, but she’s not making any sounds and her noodle arms aren’t flapping. I grab him by the back of the head, (greasy pig hair in my fingers) and peel him off of her like Velcro. She runs to the corner.

I can’t die I can’t die I have to save her or she is next then he will get them too I can’t die

My arms (not noodles) are acting without my mind; my eyes still see only static. There is a revolting crack when the vacuum meets his head. We both crumple. She is still whimpering in the corner (sick injured bunny whimper).

I Rise.

My legs and arms move; my legs and arms drag her out of the terror.

I can’t die

–Dear, Readers, Leave Comments of support and love for T. M. S. ( This writer gave everything & by sharing this powerful piece, I believe, was set free ).

50 Comments

This reminds me of the worst of it and why we must be ever vigilant to speak out, to open our arms, to open our doors, sometimes to kick the shit out of abusers and push them where they belong before they can do harm.

It is very difficult to let the words out. But, when you do you realize the lightness you haven’t been able to feel EVER. It is so freeing. I pray she has found peace at last.
xobBarbara Hammond recently posted..Rescue Pets…The Perfect Valentine!

Wow. Kim so great of you for the opportunity to bring this nd other writers words out in the open. What powerful words. I hope with your publication it will give further confidence to this writer to continue living and writing.Susan boswell recently posted..For Aunt Johnnie

I just felt such sadness and hopelessness when I first started reading this. So glad she found strength…no one should ever feel the world is better without them. I hope her journey gets lighter and brighter….the stepdad?? Why can’t HE die?debbie recently posted..Creamy Lemon One Pot Pasta

Love, support and healing thoughts to the writer of this very realistic glimpse of life. So glad she/he rose up to write about this and so right, you can’t die. You have much more to do and say because you know this better than anyone else, that it is time to talk and share, you showed us that by sharing here. Thank you. Much love. <3 <3 <3jannistyles1 recently posted..Dough Eyes

Dear T. M. S., What a heart-breaking piece of amazing writing. So so sorry for what you’ve had to endure. Congratulations on your well-deserved win!!Jann recently posted..Comment on Summer’s End by Bella

TMS – Your words, each one of them, I am holding close to my heart and I hope that you feel my love. You are so incredibly brave to write this piece and even more so because you rise not just in that moment, but every. Fucking. Second. Of. Every. Fucking. Day. You are rising.
You matter.
So much love and healing to you.
You’re an amazing writer and I hope that you continue to pour your soul into words. Really. This is power.
XoxoKimberly recently posted..1000 Voices – But Are You Listening?

TMS has lifted the veil of what happens from behind public masks for many households. It is a horror story, an outright horror story and one that no woman or child nor man ought to be living. Yet there is such power in the telling and I hope that T has tapped in to that power and will keep tapping for her sake and the sake of her family. Keep telling the secret til there is no more secret to keep. Thank you Kim for making slace for T and everyone else to tell their story. May each one Rise in her own eyes as she speaks out.

Oh dear God, this makes me want to run into that house and tear this precious desperate writer and her mom and siblings OUT of it! Oh, do I pray pray pray she (I believe, wonder but think it to be true) has escaped this evil torture of a life, and I pray pray pray her mom and the other kids have too.

I pray that vacuum killed that devil. I am sick just thinking about the pain this precious soul has endured- all at the hands of many evil men- step dads… this is the darkest of the darkest.

Kim- you gave an opportunity for someone to write a very personal story about abuse and violence experienced by far too many. This was a powerful piece and beautifully written, full of agony, anger, despair but also of courage. Young children should not have to live like this. Too many do. I hope this young person can heal and continue to tell her story to the world.Joan Peterson recently posted..Deadly gun clothing

Karen Sosnoski

February 22, 2015 at 7:58 am

Praying for TMS that this violence is in the past and if not that someone knows her true identity & can give her & family the practical support her strong spirit needs. This was written with so much immediacy–the disparaging labels & brutal physical abuse frighten me for the writer. Her words, spoken & written are a gift.

T.M.S., thank you for rising up. Thank you for being unable to die. Thank you for being a voice that can echos and take hold in the hearts and minds of those who also can’t die, and help them to rise up, as well.
Peace.

Dear TMS….may you find the peace, strength and courage to keep rising. You are stronger and more powerful than you know. Keep rising…and keep sharing your story until it flies away…Kathy @ SMART Living 365.com recently posted..Namaste’âThe Spirit Behind Compassion

TMS So powerful, such a talent you have, don’t ever stop writing. I am so sorry you have gone through this, no you should never have had to experience that kind of abuse; no one should but people do and it is people like you who speak out who will eventually change the world. You are very strong and so very valuable and worthy of love and respect. Sending prayers and hugs to you.

It’s well written but it’s painful to read. I can’t imagine the horror of growing up in such a situation of hopelessness. There are children who have the odds stacked against them yet despite their circumstances, they rise xxHotly Spiced recently posted..A Medical Emergency

It’s hard to even find words to articulate the level of punch-to-my-gut when I read the excerpts and T.M.S’ piece. What a great outlet you have provided and kudos to everyone sharing their deep pain.Renee Johnson recently posted..Good News!

T.M.S. Keeping you and your loved ones in my prayers. You’re very brave to share these lines, your story. But hear me, you can’t die cause YOU.ARE.STRONG & BEAUTIFUL.
Sending love to you wherever you are in this world.Marie recently posted..Just the two of us

This had to be so tough for you, Kim . . . to read, and choose. At the same time, it’s wonderful — important — that you encourage other women to give voice to the horrors of abuse.Deborah Batterman recently posted..S.A.D. but True

T.M.S. You have absolutely risen! You are an incredible and wonderful being!
Your story hurt me to my core. Nobody should ever live through what you and your siblings did. NEVER!
YOU HAVE RISEN!
Love to you.
Mandy xo